


Caged Dogs

by corpsefluid



Series: Tumblr Tidbits [3]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Bodily Fluids, Gang Rape, M/M, Prison, Vomiting, Warnings May Change, Watersports, genital trauma, tags do not cover the extent of the warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3152888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corpsefluid/pseuds/corpsefluid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Former prison guard Ocelot finding himself a prisoner in what was previously his prison and aftermath.</p><p>Trashy prison au based on tumblr conversations? y/y</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death Sentence

**Author's Note:**

> I filled a kink meme fic, but half way through I stopped and wrote about the [MGS prison AU](http://thatkindoffangirl.tumblr.com/tagged/mgs%20prison%20AU) for a bit instead.
> 
> It’s honestly just about Ocelot being a violent little shit and people being violent towards Ocelot so uh, don’t look for a plot too hard.

On that day Ocelot lost almost everything that was ever his. His authority? Gone, his uniform? Gone, his revolvers? Gone.  
  
What was done was done, and Ocelot wouldn't have changed it.  
  
Though the second he'd put on the the scratchy jumpsuit and been marched past the line of cells, Ocelot had a target on his back. It was entirely expected, Ocelot was one of those guards, the kind that would have been shanked given a tenth of a chance, but then again, that applied to almost every guard here. Expecting help from his former co-workers and subordinates _now_ was out of the question for the same reason.  
  
They assigned him a cell and gave him an armful of bedding and spare jumpsuits. It didn't take a genius to tell how much the guards relished it. After what he'd done it'd be amazing if he had any friends left in the world at all, and being here meant he was never gong home.  
  
It wasn't the death penalty or a life sentence, but this was the sort of prison you were sent to to disappear entirely, which was why Ocelot had been able to do even half the things he'd done as a guard. The corrupt, violent and morally bankrupt guards thrived here and so had Ocelot, until now.  
  
Going from guard to prisoner was never a 'polite' sort of change.  
  
It wasn't even lunch time before the first of many inmates came looking for a bit of revenge. Ocelot broke his arm in three places and half-drowned him in the toilet, the next three takers got off worse.  
  
Ocelot spent a week in solitary before he saw the next one.

It was seven broken ribs, five broken noses, three broken arms, a busted knee and a ruptured eyeball later before his 'fellow inmates' began to wise up. Those inmates had paid dearly for underestimating him, but there was only so long they could beat their heads against a wall before they started looking for ways around it.  
  
While Ocelot had always worked in a team as a guard, he was far from incapable of defending himself, and while he'd always used tools and weapons on prisoners, he was just as capable of hurting people without. The prison had never seen him do it before now, and now that they had, well...  
  
Kaz tried to warn him.

Ocelot had waved it off, acting like it wasn't a big deal. He knew things would escalate, there just wasn't anything he could do about it, and he didn't want John worrying about it. He'd handle it himself.

* * *

  
They came for him after midnight, one of them had bribed someone to unlock the cells. Ocelot could make an educated guess as to who, but that would have to wait until later. The cell unlocking had woken Ocelot up, but he kept himself still. Feigning sleep until they went to pull him from his bed to move. He could hear about five men, more than that and they probably wouldn't have room in the cell to do anything.  
  
  
It finished almost as soon as it had started, Ocelot was good but in the end, not _that_ good. He could fight, but overpowering five men in such a small space wasn't happening. Ocelot's head cracked on the floor as he was pinned down.  
  
It hurt but Ocelot couldn't help grinning at the damage he'd managed to inflict before he'd been pinned.  
  
The man sitting on his stomach demanded to know 'What he was smiling about,' he had blood dripping down his face from his bloodied, likely broken nose.  
  
So Ocelot spat a piece of another man's ear at him and laughed.

Maybe it was making it worse for himself, but the most important part here was in how he responded. If he showed fear it'd be a feeding frenzy.  
  
No-ear was too busy trying to stop the bleeding to do much, but mister Broken-nose and Cracked-jaw were still kicking and they were mad.  
  
The low light and Ocelot's throbbing head wound made it hard it hard to identify them, but it was a safe bet he'd beaten the crap out of at least a couple, if not all, of them at some point or another, he'd done that a lot before 'the incident.'  
  
The blow to the side of his face made his teeth rattle and the next made his ears ring. He was bruised and bloodied, but luckily it seemed Broken-nose couldn't throw a punch worth a damn. He could feel the bruising and swelling forming in his cheeks and jaw, but he wasn't getting killed any time soon, not like this anyway.  
  
Eventually Cracked-jaw got sick of it and shoved him out of the way to do the job himself.  
  
Ocelot made a point of spitting some of his blood in to Cracked-jaw's eyes.  
  
It seemed like the man only hit him a couple of times on principle, because after Cracked-jaw was done, the men left. All five of them, all without so much as kicking him in the guts.  
  
It was _too_ easy.

He'd been let off lightly. This was just a test, they'd be back even if he didn't see them again that night.


	2. Dead Man Walking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically the chapter for what is essentially the whole point of the [MGS prison AU](http://thatkindoffangirl.tumblr.com/tagged/mgs%20prison%20AU) discussion. Ocelot getting wrecked.
> 
> In case anyone's wondering: I decided for the purposes of this fic, the reason Ocelot was discreetly imprisoned in a prison where he was once a guard was because he killed another guard to prevent that guard killing Big Boss. Regular criminal activity wouldn't have gotten him this sort of lock up in this kind of prison, and absol-fucking-lutely no one involved wants anything in this sort of prison looked into deeper the way it would in a trial so plenty of reason to try to disappear Ocelot and cover up the death as well.
> 
> Think along the lines of the prison in Yakuza 4 for the level of fuckery going on in the administration and somewhat Silent Hill: Downpour for the physical prison environment.
> 
> Of course this is seriously over thinking things when you consider this is just for the sake of a trashy everything is terrible or porny type AU, so on with the story.

* * *

 

Ocelot wouldn't admit it but he appreciated Kaz' silence on the matter. Ocelot couldn't lie about the existence of the injuries but he didn't have to explain them either.

No one else was going to fess up and risk the wrath of Big Boss by cluing him in on that night's events, so for the most part the information was safe.

Ocelot couldn't stand the idea. He could protect himself, he could handle it fine on his own. He didn't need protection or saving, what he needed was a strategy.

With a few days peace the black and blue faded to a sickly green and brown of healing, Ocelot took the chance to get some ground work laid out for himself.

The one who lost half his ear wouldn't be bothering him again for sure. Judging by the stains on the white gauze taped to the side of his head, he hadn't been able to get it reattached. Ocelot took great deal of satisfaction in making him cringe, making a big show of his sharp white teeth as the man scurried past him.

Not many people were willing to lose an ear twice.

Ocelot made a point of avoiding being alone where he could anyway. There was no need to make the next attack easy if he could help it.

As much as it didn't seem like it, he apparently did still have some friends in the world. Particularly among the smuggling rings. They weren't necessarily 'good' friends, but ones who could be counted on to at least honour the favours they owed him.

With the right product there were a few more groups that wouldn't hold his identity against him. Not necessarily protect him, but ensuring they'd not openly attack him was a good start all things considered.

Feeling less like a dead man walking gave him some freedom to move.

It wasn't enough.

 

* * *

Being a wanted man gave you a sense for being followed. Ocelot had manage to delay thing quite a bit, but another attack was inevitable. The group had started to gather a few minutes ago, trying to push his movements somewhere less populated, somewhere they had more control over potential interventions.

It was only when Ocelot saw the guard posts empty that he was truly concerned.

Ocelot turned heel, and ducked down to head-butt the man directly behind him. Dancing away from the hands of the two men beside him so he could fight properly.

They weren't going to kill him, probably. If they wanted him dead they'd have finished the job back in his cell that night they last paid him a visit. That didn't make them friendly though.

Ocelot was sorely outnumbered, and while he had more room to work with than the prior incident, there was only so much he could do with his strength, speed and skill. He was a good fighter and fought as dirty as they came, but he was still human, made of flesh and bone.

He wasn't going to win, but Ocelot was going to make damn sure to take his pound of flesh before they brought him down.

He didn't take any ears this time, though he was fairly certain he managed to gouge an eye or two. Kicking, scratching and biting, Ocelot was brought down onto the concrete. Caught.

A pair of hands grabbed his head and banged it against the concrete, once, twice, three times- stopping once he stopped thrashing.

As his struggling stopped, he was dragged back up, only to be punched in the gut and shoved down onto his knees in front of a prisoner sporting a nasty black eye Ocelot felt he could be proud of delivering.

The men gathered around, forming a sort of circle as the black-eyed prisoner undid his fly and drew out his dick. He made sure Ocelot was watching as he stroked it to attention.

“Open your mouth sweetheart, no teeth,” he growled out, offering his erection to Ocelot.

Ocelot opened his mouth almost obligingly, allowing the man to thrust his penis into his mouth. Ocelot momentarily gagged around the flesh, then bit down as hard as his position would allow. Relishing the yell as he shredded incredibly sensitive flesh, while the man tried to rip his cock from Ocelot's jaws. Ocelot shook his head to worsen the damage.

He didn't have the right teeth or the jaw strength for a complete castration, but he could make do with what he had. Twisting and jerking to cause as much pain as he could before he was pried off.

He only let go when strong fingers dug tightly into his jaw, pressing painfully into soft flesh under his ears until he released the man between his teeth.

With fresh blood and drool dripping down his face, Ocelot bared his teeth, daring someone to try it again before spitting the mouthful of blood on the concrete. Very nearly laughing to try and put some fear back into the prisoners he'd abused so long ago.

That was one down, and at risk of bleeding out if he'd done it right. They weren't all dumb enough to risk that though. If only it would have been  _that_ easy, Ocelot would have torn the throat out and ripped the dick off of every man here. No matter how unwashed.

Mr Broken-nose, having had it broken twice now, kicked Ocelot over. Making his prone body scrape against the concrete.

Ocelot squirmed and jerked, trying to get his legs back under him. Kicking out at the next man to approach him, sorely missing his spurs to dig into someone's soft belly, or do something, anything more damaging that whatever bruising he could accomplish without the footing to build up proper force.

Ocelot was kicked again, in the ribs this time. It didn't feel hard enough to break them, but it was enough to make breathing difficult as he was pushed down and his jumpsuit was ripped from his body. His bare skin put on display for the rest of the pack.

The broken-nosed-man lifted Ocelot's hips up, putting his bare arse on display for the onlookers. Keeping a hand firmly in the middle of his back to keep Ocelot from getting up. Groping at his pale rump to find his arsehole, quickly forcing his fingers inside.

Ocelot yelped from the sudden intrusion before getting a hold of himself. He'd done things before, to himself with his fingers... but that was in private and never like this. Even at his roughest it was different when it was someone else's fingers. Relaxing was out of the question and it was far to dry, there wasn't even a hint of arousal to distract him like if he'd been doing it himself, or if certain other people had been doing it for him.

They were laughing at him. What a sight he must have made now. This once proud and vicious guard, now naked, defenceless, face down, ass up on the concrete floor at their mercy after being at his so many times before... what  _wasn't_ there to laugh at?

The dry, calloused fingers pulled at the sensitive skin and curled inside him. More were added far to quickly, stretching him pink, raw and wide. They were just opening him up enough to get some substance inside him. Probably hand cream from the commissary, wasn't an uncommon use for it and since it wasn't hurting him beyond the stretching it seemed a safe guess. Could have been anything, but it just felt cold and wet. It didn't make it easier, just smoother. Just barely edging on pleasurable.

It was all Ocelot could do to keep his face off the floor as he was held down.

Suddenly Ocelot's hair was yanked harshly, as the man behind him smashed his head down against the concrete again, disorientating him. Making it nearly impossible to register the exact moment the man forced his cock inside him.

It hurt, Ocelot wasn't relaxed, couldn't relax, every muscle in his body was tensed like a panicked animal ready to flee. He couldn't flee though, he didn't have much hopes he'd be able to even stand. Every inch burned as it was forced past his resisting sphincter, he couldn't prevent it getting in and he couldn't force it out, only clench down on the invading appendage. Unable to let go, or make it easier on himself.

It felt like his hips were too small to accommodate, even though Ocelot knew for a fact that wasn't true. Ocelot let out a small sigh of relief through clenched teeth as he felt the man's hips against his backside, knowing there wasn't any more about to be forced inside. That relief was short lived as the man with the broken nose dragged his cock back out slowly, and jerked it back in. It wasn't any easier coming out than going in, both motions burned equally as they forced his tense muscles to yield.

As the man thrust, he ground Ocelot's face against the rough concrete, pressing on tender, developing bruises and grazing the skin of his cheek. It was only a matter of time, when this one was done the rest would be on him to take their turn to humiliate him. This was just the first blood before the rest of the pack descended on him.

The process repeated for a few minutes, nearly enough for Ocelot to get used to it, but not quite. His dick was hard, but it didn't take the edge off.

Eventually the man behind him pulled out, but he hadn't finished. Instead he walked around so he was standing in front of Ocelot, his erection still rock hard. Bending down to wrap his fist up in Ocelot's hair, lifting him from the ground and bringing them momentarily face to face. The man was close enough that Ocelot could smell the blood from his broken nose even through the blood on his own face.

“Now, we're going to try this again and you're going to behave this time.”

Ocelot had hoped no one was going to risk it after the first one, but the de-facto leader took it upon himself to try again. Ocelot was more than certainly ready to bite again, and honestly just about ready to head-butt the guy, in spite of all the times he'd been made to make friends with the concrete in the past twenty minutes, but the next thing he said made him hesitate.

“ Boss is going to hear about just how eager you were for our cocks if you aren't going to keep your teeth to yourself,” it was almost a whisper the way it was growled out, so no one else heard.

It wasn't that Ocelot thought anyone would believe that, it was the idea of John _knowing_ what happened. That Ocelot had been so weak and unprepared so as to be unable to get away, that he'd been pathetic enough to let this happen.

Wounds, blood, bruises, and breaks he could still say he'd defended himself. It could show he'd fought hard enough to survive, that he'd taken care of the issue. Rape was another story.

One he wouldn't let get out. He'd kill every single man here to make sure of it even if it meant spending the rest of his life in solitary.

But first he needed to survive.

Ocelot bowed his head in mock acquiescence, soon after he was confronted with the dick that had been up his ass only a few moments ago.

The smell alone made Ocelot dry heave, the cock hadn't even finished sliding past his tongue before he vomited, with his mouth full it foamed out the sides of his mouth and out his nose. Burning his sinuses and making his eyes water, making him choke as he tried to manage wet, sucking breaths through his nose without inhaling the bile.

The man-with-the-broken-nose was undeterred by the filth, the mess was proof of having won. That despite what he'd done he'd gone unmaimmed was proof that Ocelot was well and truly at their mercy to do with as they wished.

Ocelot couldn't breathe. Vomit, shit and the cream, the taste overpowered anything else he might have tasted or smelled as his face was forcibly fucked. The man's dick felt unreasonably large to his convulsing throat as Ocelot kept retching, and coughing, trying to breathe air through the sticky mess and clear his airway. He hardly noticed when the man came, just that he pulled away and that he had a chance to well and truly expel everything from his guts, lungs and sinuses.

Ocelot's entire body dropped to the floor as soon as he was no longer being held up, for a few moments he was left to the choking convulsions in a puddle of his own vomit as the crowd watched. The blood on his face was almost completely washed away by bile, mucus and tears, the smell made him want to vomit again.

Ocelot's limp body was dragged from the mess, grazing his pale skin against the concrete, and a bucket of freezing water thrown on him to bring him back to awareness.

Cold wet and shivering, it seemed like hands came at him from every angle. Dragging his limbs away from his body so he couldn't defend himself or try to protect his bruised stomach. One man sat his weight solidly on Ocelot's stomach, another behind him already unzipped and had himself ready to have a go at Ocelot's freshly abused arsehole, while a third stood over him, offering him another cock.

The one on his stomach had something else in mind rather than fucking him. With men all around him, Ocelot couldn't see what he was up to until he felt it. Ocelot was sure what it was, just that it was sharp and cutting into his chest.

Enough to get a yell out of him around the cock that'd been forced in his mouth.

He barely even felt the man that was fucking him until the next man came along. This one was far larger than either of the men before, and Ocelot was already raw from friction. Being stretched wider, he would have been surprised to find nothing had torn from the intrusion, and then the man started to move.

Ocelot bucked, his body involuntarily trying to get away, jerking under the man sitting on his stomach and the man fucking his face, trying to get away. It didn't help, he just found other men grabbing his hands to wrap them around their dicks so they could get in on the action.

So it continued, with almost every man there trying to get their turn. Whether it was to fuck him or to hurt him, they got their turn.

By the end of that Ocelot was bloody, cut and bruised, lying in a puddle of blood, sweat and semen, and it still wasn't over.

The man with the broken nose again came over to him, flipped Ocelot over in the puddle of filth he'd been left in.

“You're a huge mess now, aren't you pussy cat? Can't just leave you like that, let's wash you off.”

Ocelot was in too much pain, too exhausted to really react. He didn't expect anything good, squinting up through swollen, bruised eyelids, but it still surprised him when the man with the broken nose undid his fly again, took his cock in hand and let fly a stream of piss.

Ocelot's sense were too dulled from the trauma to truly smell it, but he still felt the disgust. Barely, in the back of his mind, under the burning of the wounds on his skin, as the urine washed away the blood and semen coating his body. Ocelot was too sore, too tired to do much of anything now.

For all the pain he was in, all the humiliation he'd experienced, he was still alive. Limp, beaten, drenched in piss and blood, but still most definitely alive. He could still get revenge, he could kill these men once he recovered, all he needed was to stay alive.

Satiated for now, the pack dispersed. Content enough to leave Ocelot in the puddle of filth they'd created, seeing as he wasn't getting anywhere fast and unlikely to identify the culprits. It was all the problem of whoever took it upon themselves to scrape up his sorry carcass, as if anyone other than Big Boss gave a shit enough to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an afterthought though, seeing as one of the basic aspects of the premise is basically Big Boss became a prisoner after a gang related mass murder and him believing the Boss is dead. Consider after Ocelot's imprisonment, the Boss shows up as a prison guard looking for him. Big Boss proceeds to make this all about His Feelings.
> 
> Someone should write me that one. I'll pay in trashy smut.


End file.
